


at ease

by luckee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, First Time, Hand Feeding, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Underage Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckee/pseuds/luckee
Summary: Obi-Wan gives Anakin the guiding hand he so desperately needs.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 17
Kudos: 566





	at ease

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Star Wars fandom! I’m new in town, I'm not totally sure what a holocron is, most of the Star Wars-y details in this are probably wildly inaccurate, and I'm really not bothered. Just wanted to write some PWP with these two idiots. Today I offer you trash. Tomorrow… the same. Currently gushing over said idiots on [tumblr](https://luckee.tumblr.com).

_“Anakin? Anakin, where are you? You were supposed to be at the rendezvous point ten minutes ago!”_

Kriffing _hell_.

_“Anakin, do not ignore me. Where are you?”_

Anakin hurriedly switched on his comm and was met with Obi-Wan’s predictably irritated face. “Just hold on, we’ll be there in a minute.”

_“Anakin! What’s going on? Are you alright?”_

“I’m fine. It just took us a little longer than expected to finish the job.”

_“Did you wipe the holocrons?”_

Anakin went for casual. “Generally, yes.”

_“‘Generally.’ What does that mean?”_

“We got overwhelmed with droids before I could get to them. I had the guys lay down some detonations and the whole plant’s going to blow in about, oh, a minute.”

 _“Anakin,”_ Obi-Wan started in that familiar disappointed voice, but whatever he planned to say was cut off by a loud blast over the comm. Anakin heard Obi-Wan’s muffled shout of _commander, prepare the troops for take off_. _“We’ve been spotted. Hopefully our departure will steer them off your trail. Just get everyone back to Coruscant in one piece.”_

“Of course, M— General.”

If Obi-Wan caught his slip, he didn’t show it. _“Don’t think we won’t be discussing your callous behavior when we get back.”_

Anakin shut off his comm and snapped it back on his belt, then kicked his speeder into a higher gear. From over the approaching dunes Anakin watched his former master’s ship take off. He glared after it. Could he really not have waited a few minutes more? 

Then again, maybe this was better. This way he got to delay the inevitable lambasting for a couple more hours until their debriefing with the Council.

Ugh.

“General!” Rex called, his speeder pulling up next to him. “Fives is reporting droids waiting near our ships. What’s the plan?”

Anakin smirked, grabbing the hilt of his lightsaber just as the sound of explosions echoed in the distance. “Tell the troops we’re cutting out way through.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

As soon as the _Resolute_ docked at a Coruscant port Anakin had every intention to make a mad dash to safety. But Obi-Wan was there waiting at the bottom of the ramp, arms crossed over his chest, looking just as disappointed as Anakin predicted. He spotted Rex disembarking and tried to silently plead for his help, hoping to at least have a witness, but Rex strode past him with a lazy salute, the _bastard_.

“Everyone’s back in one piece, just like you asked!”

“Anakin—”

“All things considered, I think that went pretty well.”

“Anakin,” and the tone of voice made him snap his jaw shut on his next attempt at placating. 

“You should have let us know you were being swarmed. As soon we were done we could have helped hold them off to give you enough time to complete the mission.”

“We didn’t have time to wait for your backup. Look, the holocrons are destroyed. Mission complete.”

“Yes, they’re destroyed,” Obi-Wan said, eyes narrowing. “Along with an entire Republic missile plant!”

“What did you expect me to do?” Anakin said, bristling. “Things were about to get messy and I wasn’t risking my men’s lives over some stupid blueprints. What else was I supposed to do?” 

“You were supposed to—”

“I didn’t have time to call you! I couldn’t… you weren’t…” 

“I wasn’t what, Anakin?”

He didn’t have time to catch the words before they tumbled out. “You weren’t there to tell me what to do!”

Obi-Wan simply stared at him and his gaze was so intense that it was making Anakin’s skin crawl. He just wanted this conversation to end. He hated how childish he sounded, like a lost little padawan who needed his master to tell him how to put one foot in front of the other. He was a general for kriff’s sake. It was his call to make and Obi-Wan had no right to belittle him—

“You’ve never wanted me to tell you what to do before,” Obi-Wan said coolly.

Anakin bit down on a bitter laugh at that. Obi-Wan was right, in a way. He’d spent nearly a decade defying every word his master said, finding loopholes around every rule. But now that Obi-Wan _wasn’t_ telling him what to do, he felt like he was going insane. Every decision he made wound up being the wrong one and he was absolutely terrified of the day when his bad decisions would lead to something worse than demolishing an empty plant.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan tried when Anakin didn’t say anything. He took a few steps forward until he was close enough that Anakin had to tilt his head. “Do you want me to tell you what to do?”

Something about the question sent a thrill up his spine. The angry, indignant part of him wanted to say no. Obviously. Obi-Wan wasn’t his master anymore; he had earned his place as a Jedi knight and as a general. Another part of him was desperate to say yes, to finally admit to his former master how lost and overwhelmed he’d been for months without his guidance. To admit how much he craved it.

“Answer me, please,” Obi-Wan said, softer this time.

“...yes.”

“Alright then.” Obi-Wan straightened his shoulders, posture impeccable as always, and headed off towards the temple. “The Council is waiting for us. Come.”

Anakin nearly tripped over himself in his haste to follow. 

When they arrived, the atmosphere in the Council room could only be described as unfriendly. Obi-Wan must’ve already informed them of what happened. Great.

Anakin remained silent with his head bowed while Obi-Wan gave the majority of the mission report, explaining how the 212th had managed to locate and wipe their holocrons without issue. His level, mild voice reporting their success was irritating to listen to, but Obi-Wan had asked him to let him speak first and he wasn’t exactly in a rush to deal with the Council’s ire anyway.

“General Skywalker, we’ve been alerted to your failure to comply with the mission objectives,” came Windu’s sharp voice.

“Master Windu,” Obi-Wan began.

“That’s bantha shit,” Anakin spat. “The holocrons were destroyed before the Separatists got to them. Wasn’t that the mission objective?”

“We asked that the holocrons were wiped _covertly,_ without blowing up one of the Republic’s own plants. You know, the plants that supply you ship with weapons? Or did you forget that tiny detail?”

“Master Windu,” Obi-Wan tried again.

“This is not the first time the allure of making a spectacle has won over your rationality and we’re beginning to wonder if you actually understand the gravity of this war.”

“If you’re so worried about me blowing things up then maybe you shouldn’t be sending me on _covert_ missions,” Anakin said, sneering. “You know I’m better in combat. Leave these missions to Obi-Wan.”

“If you’re going to act like this, Skywalker, maybe we shouldn’t be sending you on missions at all.”

Anakin snarled, ready to rip Windu a new one but was stopped by something brushing against his lower back. Confused, he realized Obi-Wan must have stepped closer to him without him noticing, and now that hand was a solid, warm, and _warning_ weight on his back. He huffed out his anger through his nose, trying to let the hand ground him. He knew what Obi-Wan was trying to do, knew he was trying to stop him from getting into more trouble than he already was, and he wanted to let him.

“I will discuss today’s transgressions with Anakin. I assure you this will not happen again,” Obi-Wan said. As he spoke, Anakin felt that hand rub small circles into his back, and he couldn’t stop himself entirely from leaning back into it.

“Decide the consequences of Skywalker’s actions, the Council must,” Yoda said. 

“I do not deny the Council’s authority on the matter. However, he is my former Padawan and I believe I can set matters straight without wasting the Council’s time. Despite his recklessness, he is still one of the Republic’s best generals, and I think you and the Senate can both agree that we cannot afford to decommission him.” There was something hard and final in Obi-Wan’s voice, like he knew he had won the discussion.

The Council exchanged words that Anakin didn’t pay much attention to, focused on the hand still rubbing comforting circles into his lower back. Master Windu looked resigned as he waved them off. “We’ve reached an agreement then. General Kenobi, we trust you to settle this matter. Thank you for your work today, Generals. You are dismissed.”

Obi-Wan’s hand guided him out of the Council chamber, and it might have been the only thing stopping Anakin from turning back around and sticking his tongue out at Windu. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said once they were a few paces away from the chamber. “I’d like you to come to my apartment at nightfall. We have some things to discuss.”

Anakin groaned. “Does it have to be tonight? We just got back!” 

“I will see you at nightfall,” Obi-Wan said firmly as he removed his hand. Anakin felt the loss like an ache. He was startled when that hand came up to rest against his cheek, oh so briefly, before it was dropped. With that, his former master walked away, leaving Anakin to stare after him.

* * *

Anakin spent the hours before nightfall roaming the temple, feeling ready to crawl out of his skin. He tried to tinker in his rooms, working on repairing a medical droid that had short-circuited, but found he was too restless to focus. He didn’t know what to expect from tonight. He knew it wouldn’t be what his traitorous heart was hoping for. Most likely it would be a long and boring lecture about how bad of a general he was shaping up to be, probably followed by some meditation. Then maybe Obi-Wan would make him clean and shine his boots—that had once been his punishment for skipping out on a meditation session as a young padawan. 

When he knocked on Obi-Wan’s door shortly after the Coruscant sun had set, a faint _come in_ answered him. The familiar sitting room was lit in soft lamp light, the drapes pulled over the windows. With a jolt, Anakin realized it had been almost a year since he had last been here, since he had _lived_ here as Obi-Wan’s padawan. He hadn’t been invited back until now. The thought fouled his mood.

“Have you eaten?” Obi-Wan asked, gesturing for him to enter the room fully instead of hovering at the doorway.

“Not since this morning.” He didn’t feel like going into detail about exactly why he had been feeling too restless to go down and get dinner at the caf after their meeting with the Council.

“Sounds like you need to eat then. I’ve got a fresh jar of that jam you used to like, maybe that on some toast?”

“I’d rather just get this lecture done with,” Anakin snapped.

“Anakin.” The slightly hurt tone in his former master’s voice made him feel just a bit guilty for being so cold. “I’d like to make sure you don’t go to bed hungry. Is that amenable?”

“I can feed himself.”

“And yet you haven’t.”

His stomach chose that exact moment to growl. _Traitor._

“You told me at the port that you’d like me to tell you what to do. I am trying to do that now, Anakin, and you’re already fighting me. Tell me, did I misunderstand you?”

“You didn’t misunderstand me,” he said to the wall behind Obi-Wan.

“Then why are you resisting?”

He didn’t reply.

Obi-Wan frowned. “I’d like to help you. I’ve been… worried about you recently. You’ve grown more and more reckless and it feels like you’ve been more distant with me.”

Anakin had to bite his tongue on saying that it was _Obi-Wan_ who had wanted distance after his knighting, who had acted like the severing of their training bond wasn’t any more difficult or painful than turning off a light switch. It was Obi-Wan who had kept their interactions cut short to mission orders and banter on the battlefield. 

“You didn’t misunderstand me,” he repeated.

Obi-Wan appraised him carefully for a moment. Anakin cast his gaze around the room.

“Are you going to do as I ask tonight?” 

He hesitated before nodding. 

“Are you going to tell me if I’ve crossed a line?” 

Anakin nodded again.

“I would like to hear you say it.”

“Yes.” His heart quickened. If they were going to do this, Obi-Wan needed to _understand_. So he fell to his knees, bowed his head, and said in his most demure voice, “Yes… Master.”

When he looked up, Obi-Wan was watching him calmly. He waited in tense anticipation for Obi-Wan to tell him to stand up and behave like a respectable Jedi knight. Instead, Obi-Wan crossed the room to stand before him. His hand reached out to card fingers through his hair, pushing back the wild curls. Anakin felt himself start to tremble when no scolding came. It felt _so_ good. After a moment, Obi-Wan tugged gently at his hair, guiding him to crane his neck back and look up at him.

“Very good, dear one.”

Obi-Wan’s features were softened in the dim lighting, but his bright eyes held Anakin transfixed, rooted to the spot where he knelt on the floor, his hands curled in loose fists on his thighs. 

“I’d like you to sit at the table and wait while I make you something to eat. Can you do that for me?”

Anakin nodded eagerly. He could do that. “Yes, Master.”

“Thank you. You can get up now.”

While Obi-Wan went to busy himself in the kitchen, pulling a few containers out of the conservator, Anakin slowly emerged from his kneeling position. His blood sang in victory and the Force felt like it was pulsing happily around him. How long had he waited to have Obi-Wan’s attention like this?

He padded over to the small dining table and realized he wanted to kneel instead of sit, so he did. It wasn’t until Obi-Wan had finished in the kitchen that he noticed Anakin, kneeling expectantly beside a chair.

“Anakin, you don’t have to kneel.”

“Yeah, but I want to,” Anakin replied easily. 

Obi-Wan hesitated only for a moment before sitting down in the chair next to him, setting the plate he had prepared on the table. Anakin noticed he had also brought over a glass of water.

“This is uncharted territory for me. If at any point this is no longer helping you, we’ll stop and you can return to your rooms.”

Anakin nodded to ease his former master’s evident worry about crossing a line. He couldn’t, as far as Anakin was concerned. He would take anything Obi-Wan was willing to give him. 

“Are you comfortable like that?” Anakin nodded in affirmation. “Good. You can stay there then.” He offered Anakin the glass, tentatively pressing it to his lips as if unsure how Anakin would react. He parted his lips, readily accepting the cool drink. Of course Obi-Wan knew he was dehydrated. Obi-Wan had always been more in tune with Anakin’s needs than he was himself. And his own needs, for that matter, Anakin noted with annoyance. He was certain Obi-Wan hadn’t been taking proper care of himself during the war, he could _see_ the exhaustion, but he never gave Anakin the chance to check in on him.

“I’m going to feed you,” Obi-Wan said, “And I’d like you to finish everything.”

He tore off small enough pieces of the toasted bread for Anakin to eat it from his hand without making a mess. If he swiped his tongue over his lips a few more times than necessary it was just to ensure there weren’t any smears of jam anywhere, not at all to tease his former master. 

“You’re doing well,” Obi-Wan encouraged. “I know you’re prone to skipping meals, but that cannot continue.”

Anakin hummed in acquiescence, eyes sliding closed for a moment to savor the feeling of Obi-Wan’s fingers, sticky with jam, brushing against his lips, coaxing them open with a piece of sweet melon.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you out of your armor. Seen you so docile,” Obi-Wan said, almost reverently. “Still so young and good. Too young to be under such great pressure.”

Anakin squirmed.

“I need you to relax, my Padawan,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, brushing his thumb over his cheek in a way that made Anakin shiver. The old title stirred something low in his belly. “Just let go. Let me take care of you.”

He slowly relaxed into the touch and allowed Obi-Wan to continue to feed him until the plate was nearly empty. In the back of his mind he wondered why Obi-Wan had kept buying his favorite jam if he wasn’t even going to bother inviting him over, but he wasn’t complaining now as he hungrily ate the meal his master had made for him.

With the next berry offered to him, he licked at Obi-Wan’s fingers experimentally before sucking them into his mouth.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan protested.

He peered innocently up at his master’s questioning face before grabbing the berry between his teeth, slowly withdrawing his lips from those fingers now that he had his prize. He chewed merrily. “What is it, Master?”

And oh, the heated look in Obi-Wan’s eyes sent a thrill straight to his cock.

“You’ve always enjoyed testing me…” he lamented with an exaggerated sigh. When he brought the last berry to Anakin’s lips, he rubbed it along his lower lip and the upper and then around again, as if applying rouge, preventing Anakin from pulling the same trick twice. The action surprised him and for a moment he was reminded of the power Obi-Wan held over him, the power he had willingly handed over.

“Bite,” Obi-Wan commanded, and Anakin did, carefully taking the berry and chewing. Obi-Wan’s fingers remained, and when Anakin swallowed he said, “Now suck.”

Anakin pulled those taunting fingers into the warm suction of his mouth, more than eager to comply. He swirled his tongue around them and sucked with determination, hopefully making Obi-Wan think about what else he could be doing with his mouth.

“You’re doing so well, dear one,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin preened. Obi-Wan withdrew his fingers and dried them on a cloth. “Had I known a stern hand would make you so compliant...” He trailed off, but his gaze held a fire that had Anakin tempted to throw all caution to the wind, launch himself forward and kiss his master.

“Have you showered?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Not since getting back from the mission.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. It always was a struggle to get you to bathe regularly as a boy,” Obi-Wan said with a wry smile. “Always worried we would run out of water. I suppose that’s next on our agenda then.”

“I’m sorry, Master. I should have showered before coming here.”

“Quiet,” Obi-Wan admonished lightly. “You’re doing everything right. Stand up for me please.”

Anakin scrambled to his feet.

“Strip and start the water. While I clean this up I want you to get in the sonic. I will come in to wash you in a moment.” For the first time since this _thing_ between them had started, Obi-Wan seemed to falter. “Of course, we don’t need to do that. If you would rather shower yourself...”

“No!” Anakin blurted. “I don’t. I mean, I want you to wash me.”

“Very well. I’ll join you in a minute.”

In the ‘fresher, Anakin stripped quickly. At first he was tempted to leave his clothes in a heap on the floor, but he knew Obi-Wan would be disappointed by that so he begrudgingly folded them up and stacked them on the counter. He turned the water on as asked, turning it up just as hot as he knew Obi-Wan preferred it. As he did so his eyes caught sight of a familiar bottle. He grabbed it off the sonic shelf, bewildered. It was his shampoo, the same unscented brand Obi-Wan had first gotten him when his nose proved too sensitive for anything stronger. An unopened bottle of his shampoo, right next to Obi-Wan’s far fancier scented shampoo.

He heard a soft knock and hurriedly put the shampoo back on the shelf, straightening up to face the door.

“At ease, General,” Obi-Wan said teasingly as he entered. 

Anakin rolled his eyes, but found himself relaxing at the words.

“Not in the sonic yet, I see.”

Oh, kark. Obi-Wan stripped down slowly while Anakin stepped into the sonic and Anakin felt like it was purposeful. He took the time to rinse himself thoroughly. Anakin was certain all of Obi-Wan’s many tunics were laid in the neatest possible pile by the time he joined him. The sonic was just big enough for the two of them to fit comfortably, but it was still small.

“Time to get you clean,” Obi-Wan said, gently guiding Anakin under the spray. He went easily, not at all bothering to hide his roaming gaze. He had seen his master bare before, but only in brief, stolen glances and often in dire circumstances. This was his first opportunity to truly _look_. His master was gorgeous, of course, lean and compact, pale skin dotted with freckles, cock heavy between his legs and demanding Anakin’s attention. 

Obi-Wan washed his hair first. Anakin relaxed into it as he felt the grime from the day’s events melt away. The fingers massaging the dirt out of his hair felt incredible and he happily leaned back into Obi-Wan’s chest, unafraid to let out a few contented sighs. 

“Master?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you still have my shampoo?”

Obi-Wan didn’t answer for a long moment, continuing to lather his hair. Then, he said, “In case you ever visit and need to shower.”

Anakin pondered this until Obi-Wan placed a hand on his neck, guiding him to lean his head back into the spray of water, and began rinsing out his hair. 

“Master?”

“Yes, Anakin?”

“When are you going to lecture me?”

Obi-Wan grabbed the bar of soap from the shelf. “This is all I want from you right now. Just focus on this task.”

It wasn’t much of a task, but Anakin decided to listen. He allowed Obi-Wan to handle his body however he pleased as he ran soap over his body, across his chest and back, down his arms. He was, predictably, chaste as he washed around Anakin’s rather obvious erection.

“You’re so lovely. Doing just as I ask.” Obi-Wan said it so quietly, Anakin wasn’t quite sure he was meant to hear it, but he whimpered in response nonetheless.

He felt absolutely blissed out, muscles finally relaxing after weeks of being tensed, his thoughts finally quieting and the Force’s oppressive presence in his mind fading to a manageable buzz. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so content.

After a while, Obi-Wan’s voice finally drew Anakin from his bliss. “You did well, Anakin. We’re finished. Could you—”

“Can I wash you?” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan froze.

“Never mind,” Anakin rushed out, berating himself. 

“No, no… I’ve already showered, but if you would like to, I guess you may,” Obi-Wan said slowly. A few wet strands of hair were dripping over his brow. “As long as you know you don’t need to.”

“I know,” Anakin chirped, shooting his master a grin as he plucked the soap from his hand. “But I want to.”

Anakin took his time, happy to finally have the chance to study his master’s body, to catalogue the scars and other imperfections in his skin. He rubbed long, languid strokes down his arms and cleaned between his fingers. 

“How come we never bathed together?”

“What do you mean?” 

“When I was your Padawan.”

Obi-Wan looked pained. “That would not have been even remotely appropriate and you know that.”

“Hmm.”

He ran a soapy thumb over one of his master’s nipples, delighting at his sharp intake of breath. 

“I wanted to. I wanted to bathe you so many times Master. I wanted to rub all the soreness out of your muscles. You’re always so tense and you never let anyone help you.”

Anakin watched Obi-Wan blush all the way down to his chest and it made some primal part of him immensely pleased.

“What am I going to do with you, Anakin?”

“Anything you want,” Anakin purred, trailing his sudsy fingers down Obi-Wan's sides and over his thighs. Obi-Wan stiffened as Anakin slid down to his knees, eyes peering up at him from where he was level with his master’s cock. It was limp, but as Anakin admired it he saw it twitch in interest. He finished rubbing down Obi-Wan’s calves and finally caved to his own desires, diving face-first into his master’s crotch. 

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan choked, “What are you doing?”

Anakin mouthed along the quickly swelling cock, laving his tongue down its length to taste. Soapy, with a hint of salt. “I’m washing you, Master. Is that _amenable?_ ”

Obi-Wan huffed in exasperation, but still failed to push him away. “You’re insufferable. Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

“I might,” Anakin smirked, before bowing his head to swallow down Obi-Wan’s cock. Now _that_ earned him a proper moan, Obi-Wan’s hand flying up to brace himself on the side of the sonic. Anakin had never had a cock in his mouth before and he was surprised by just how big it felt, how much it filled his mouth and restricted his airflow, but he found he adored the feeling and he began bobbing his head in earnest, hoping to wring some more obscene noises out of his always carefully controlled master. 

“Stop,” Obi-Wan said, and that steely utterance forced Anakin to reluctantly pull back from his master’s cock. Obi-Wan heaved him up by his armpits, brushing his wet curls carefully from out of his face once he was stood. 

Anakin crowded into his master’s space, loving the few inches of height he had on him. It made it easy to slide his arms around Obi-Wan’s middle and nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck.

“I want this to be about you, my darling,” Obi-Wan managed as Anakin sucked wet kisses into his neck. “I’ve neglected your needs for so long. I’m trying to remedy that tonight.”

“This is what I need,” Anakin insisted. 

“I think you need meditation and rest,” Obi-Wan sighed, sliding his palms up and down soothingly over Anakin’s arms. “This needs to stop. We’re rushing into things we shouldn’t.”

Sensing Obi-Wan was about to push him away, he tightened his arms, crowding even closer into his master’s smaller form and raining forceful kisses all along his face and jaw. He could barely think straight, not with the fear of Obi-Wan sending him back to his rooms and denying that this had ever happened weighing heavy in his throat. He could not lose this.

“Please don’t make me leave,” he pleaded.

“Of course not, dear,” Obi-Wan said, petting the curls at the nape of his neck in a way that made Anakin want to have that hand there forever. “I didn’t say we’re finished. In fact, we still have meditation to do.”

Anakin extracted himself from where his face was buried in Obi-Wan’s neck just to shoot him an unamused look. Obi-Wan simply laughed and patted his cheek before herding him out of the shower.

* * *

“Master, I don’t want to.”

They were mostly dry, sat in the corner of the sitting room that Obi-Wan had designated for meditation. Anakin had many unpleasant memories of trying and failing to meditate in the very spot he was sitting now.

“I don’t recall asking if you _wanted_ to, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, serene as could be, sitting cross-legged in his undertunic and hair still slightly damp from the shower. Anakin pulled at the sleeves of his own undertunic, or should he say _Obi-Wan’s_ undertunic. Anakin had insisted he couldn’t change back into his own dirty clothes and Obi-Wan had reluctantly agreed. “This is for your own benefit.”

“Gonna give me that lecture now?”

“No, I’m not going to lecture you tonight.” That wasn’t what Anakin expected to hear at all. “I know you’re aware you acted brashly today. It’s also become clear to me that you didn’t believe you could reach out to me in your moment of uncertainty, so I see today’s failures as my own to reflect upon.”

“Today wasn’t your fault!” Anakin protested immediately. “It was my stupid decision, Master, you can’t blame yourself.”

“Hush, dear.” Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand on his knee, smiling, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I believe we both have things we’d like to reflect on. Please meditate with me. Just long enough to find some peace.”

Anakin tried to meditate, he really did. He breathed in and out like Obi-Wan’s soothing voice directed him, tried to empty his mind as instructed. As always, his mind was brimming with too many thoughts and emotions to tune anything out. Especially now, his mind racing with thoughts about the man breathing deeply just across the mat from him. Although their bond was gone, Anakin could still sense in the Force that he was deep in meditation. 

How he longed for that bond. For nearly a year he had gone without Obi-Wan’s comforting presence in the back of his mind. So many days and weeks and months they had spent apart, with not even a single thread to connect them so they could know the other were safe and alive.

Anakin shook his head to clear such thoughts. Obi-Wan severed their bond and never looked back.

Except...

He probed at Obi-Wan’s mind, at those ever-present shields that carefully guarded his emotions from the outside world. It took some digging but he found it: a severed thread, the remains of their training bond. He grasped at it greedily, forcefully melding his Force essence to his master’s as it belonged, meeting its resistance with enough strength to overpower it.

He gasped when a heavy wave of emotions poured into his mind. Faintly he thought he heard Obi-Wan call his name but he was too overwhelmed by the feelings of intense love, longing, and _loss_ that flooded his mind and saturated him to his core.

“Anakin.” He opened his eyes to see his master’s eyes were wet, filled with anguish. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Anakin clambered into his master’s lap and nearly bowled him over in his haste to fuse their lips together. Obi-Wan grabbed his hips reflexively and made a few muffled protests against his lips but Anakin did his best to swallow them down. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan finally managed when Anakin began trailing his lips down his master’s jaw, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. “Anakin, this was a mistake. You know we can’t do this.”

“You’re wrong,” Anakin said fiercely, punctuating it with a bite at the juncture of Obi-Wan's neck and shoulder that earned him a gasp. He sent rolling waves of love and devotion through their bond. “I love you, Master. I always have. I’ve waited so kriffing long for you to love me back.”

“Oh, my dear, sweet thing,” Obi-Wan breathed out. The tinge of sadness in his voice made Anakin stop his assault to peer up at his face. Even in the dim light he could see the shine of a lone tear track. “I should never have let you doubt how much you mean to me.”

Anakin dove down to capture his lips in another kiss, and this time Obi-Wan responded, taking control of the kiss, gliding his lips along Anakin’s in a way that set his skin on fire. He moaned helplessly when Obi-Wan’s tongue licked into his mouth demandingly, not asking for permission but _claiming._

“I want you to take me, Master,” Anakin begged breathlessly against his master’s lips, grinding his hips down into his master’s lap. “Right now.”

Obi-Wan dotted kisses over his cheeks and nose. “I will, dear, I will. But not on the floor.”

Anakin climbed further on top of him, pressing his growing erection against his master’s own, evident even beneath the layers of clothing separating them. “Make love to me right here. I don’t want to wait.”

“Not here.” Obi-Wan hushed him before he could protest. “Go to my bedroom and undress. Do not touch yourself.”

“Yes, Master,” Anakin breathed out and dashed off to Obi-Wan’s private quarters. Undressed, he spread himself out across the satin sheets, luxuriating in the cool embrace. As he grew older Obi-Wan had started to deny him when he would knock on his door in the middle of the night, feigning nightmares and asking to sleep in his bed. Now, he thought victoriously, he was invited in.

He was waiting for far too long before he sensed Obi-Wan enter the room. Anakin rolled onto his back, head propped against the pillows. He stretched his lips in a lazy smile at the sight of Obi-Wan’s moonlit gaze wandering down his body. “Took you long enough.”

“Is that so?” Obi-Wan joined him on the bed then, easily swinging a leg over his body and hovering just above him, poised in a way that felt predatory. “I hear good things come to those who wait.”

“I’ve waited long enough,” Anakin whined, wriggling against the sheets. “Just take me already.”

“Patience, dear one,” Obi-Wan teased, gently pushing Anakin’s chest back down when he tried to surge up and kiss him. “So greedy.” That hand proceeded to explore down his chest and belly, seemingly in no rush, deftly avoiding his aching cock but sliding up and down his thighs in a way Anakin could only describe as torturous. He had to bite down on his lip not to cry in frustration.

“Look at you. You’re so beautiful.”

 _That_ caused a moan to slip through. His powerful, dignified master, praising him in such a way had to be the best feeling in the world. “I can’t take it, Master. I need you now.”

“Are you going to let me take care of you or not?” Obi-Wan asked, leaning down to lay a chaste kiss to Anakin’s forehead. “Are you going to let me decide what you need?”

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut and let out an unsteady exhale. “Yes, Master.”

“Good boy.”

Anakin laid back and let his master do as he pleased. Obi-Wan ghosted his lips over Anakin’s shoulders, along his collarbone and up and under his jaw. His forearms braced him on either side of Anakin’s head, so close Anakin was tempted to turn his head and lick. He refrained, wanting to behave. 

“So sweet, just for me,” Obi-Wan murmured, just before he ducked his head to meet Anakin’s lips in a slow, worshipful kiss. Anakin delighted in the scratch of beard against his mouth. He tentatively reached up a hand to cup his master’s face, hoping to prevent him from leaving. When he wasn’t chastised, he grew bolder, bringing up his other hand to tighten in Obi-Wan’s hair.

The rough slide of his master’s tongue against his own was all he knew; the soft puffs of breath from his nose as they remained locked at the mouth, pushing and pulling against each other with an urgency that spoke of intense longing.

“Have you… have you done this before?” Obi-Wan asked breathlessly when he finally broke their kiss and leaned his forehead against Anakin’s own.

“No…” Anakin shifted his hips, trying to get some friction going against his cock, but Obi-Wan held his body at bay. “But I’ve fingered myself lots of times. I can take you, I swear.”

Obi-Wan seemed skeptical. He brushed a thumb over Anakin’s entrance, making him flinch. “I’ll just have to take my time opening you up.”

Obi-Wan slid down the bed between his legs. Anakin watched in heady anticipation, eagerly spreading his legs apart. Obi-Wan lightly stroked a finger down the length of his straining cock and over his balls before bending down, sucking kisses into his inner thighs. It was the worst kind of teasing.

Then, those kisses trailed lower, and all of a sudden his cheeks were pulled apart and he had a warm tongue lapping at his entrance. The foreign sensation startled him and he let out an embarrassingly loud moan, a leg kicking out. Obi-Wan responded by throwing Anakin's legs over his shoulders, securing his place between Anakin’s thighs. He pushed his tongue in deeper, mouth a tight suction around his hole, wringing more choked-off moans from him.

By the time that expert tongue gave him a moment’s reprieve, he felt like putty, ready to be molded in whatever shape Obi-Wan wanted him to be. 

Obi-Wan looked up at him, smug, the bristles of his mouth and chin glistening with spit. He reached for a bottle resting beside Anakin’s thigh on the bed, and Anakin had to do a double-take—Obi-Wan must have used the Force to retrieve the bottle from _somewhere_ while he was distracted, because he hadn’t seen him grab it.

Before Anakin could accuse him of anything Obi-Wan was pushing a cool, lubed finger into him, slowly but insistently, all the way up to the last knuckle. He arched his back off the bed, his breath catching in his throat at the sensation of taking Obi-Wan into his body.

Anakin bucked up into his hand, desperately for more, but Obi-Wan pressed his hips down. 

“Behave, Padawan,” he crooned. 

“More,” Anakin panted. "I want more. I can take it."

“As you wish.” Obi-Wan pushed in a second finger, pressing in as far as they would go. He began pumping his fingers slowly, in and out, starting up a steady rhythm that Anakin found himself rolling his hips along with. He was ready for more, but before he could ask Obi-Wan was sliding a third finger in. This one was met with more resistance, but Anakin welcomed the stretch, willing his body to relax. Obi-Wan helped, coaxing him with soft encouragement.

“How often have you done this to yourself and wished they were my fingers?” Obi-Wan mused absently, curling his fingers inside him _just so_ to send a heavy dose of arousal straight to Anakin’s cock. He thrashed against the bed, fingers grasping at the sheets. He was so close to release, he couldn’t take this much longer. Obi-Wan’s ministrations were overwhelming and his body was shaking with need.

“Relax. I’ve got you,” Obi-Wan whispered, mouthing and nipping at the sensitive flesh of his thigh.

“Can I…?” Anakin moved to cup his aching cock, but Obi-Wan pulled his hand away.

“No touching.”

“But I need to come!” Anakin whined, frustrated.

“Not yet. You can’t come until I’m sure all that insolence has been wrung out of you.”

“Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?” Anakin challenged.

Obi-Wan pulled his fingers out, agonizingly slow, and sat back to remove his undertunic and pants. Anakin watched captivated as his master’s heavy cock sprung free, curved toward his belly and already leaking. Obi-Wan positioned himself back on top of Anakin’s body, and Anakin grabbed for his master’s flushed cock but was stopped by a strong hand wrapping around his own.

“Not tonight,” Obi-Wan said, bringing his hand up and kissing the knuckles. “Just lie back.”

Anakin complied and was content to watch Obi-Wan pump his own cock a few times, spreading abundant precome from the tip to the base and around, before aligning himself with Anakin’s entrance. Obi-Wan looked up then, questioning.

“Please, Master,” Anakin said, and with that confirmation Obi-Wan eased into him. The stretch was beyond anything Anakin had ever felt, an acute sting that far surpassed his own experimentation and even Obi-Wan’s long, thick fingers. He sucked in a sharp breath, determined to bare it.

“You’re doing so well, my darling,” Obi-Wan encouraged, wiping sweat from his brow. “That’s it. Just breathe.”

“Move, please,” Anakin begged, hands flying up to latch onto Obi-Wan’s back.

Obi-Wan thrust into him, slow at first but picking up speed as Anakin’s pained gasps turned to those of pleasure. Obi-Wan filled him up so well, the pleasant ache of him as he pumped in and out everything Anakin had imagined. Obi-Wan maneuvered Anakin’s legs up around his waist and Anakin groaned in pleasure at the new angle, digging his heels hard into Obi-Wan’s lower back in an attempt to keep him there, hitting that perfect spot.

Suddenly Obi-Wan was kissing him again and he kissed back fervently, letting his eyes slide closed so his entire world narrowed to this moment, Obi-Wan thrusting rhythmically into him, driving him deeper into bed, drawing out bone-deep feelings of pleasure. 

“You feel so good, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said against his lips. Anakin opened his eyes to see Obi-Wan gazing at him with a look he could only describe as adoring, as he slammed into him again and again. “You’re so lovely.” 

It was all too much, the need for release mounting in his belly.

“I… I need…”

“Do you need to come, dear one?”

Anakin let out a pitiful whimper and nodded furiously. There were tears stinging the corners of his eyes.

“Say it.”

“Yes!”

Obi-Wan finally wrapped a hand around Anakin’s neglected cock, pumping him in time with his hips. It quickly became too much for Anakin to bear; when Obi-Wan told him to come, he did, back arching off the bed. His cock spurted thick white lines over Obi-Wan’s fist and splattered across his chest and belly, nearly reaching his throat. His vision went starry, body trembling in pleasure. Obi-Wan rammed into him a few more times before careening over the edge himself, spilling in Anakin with a soft moan. Obi-Wan’s pleasure reverberated through their renewed bond and Anakin’s mind was again doused with affection.

Anakin collapsed back into the bed, catching his breath, feeling relief wash over him after finally getting his release. Getting himself off had never left him feeling so boneless, so sated, so utterly content.

Obi-Wan pulled out of him and rubbed his flank soothingly before leaving the room. A part of him wanted to follow him out, afraid to lose sight of him, but a much bigger part of him was exhausted and only had the energy to lay there, arm over his eyes and chest heaving as he came down from his high.

The gentle touch of a cloth sliding over his belly alerted him to Obi-Wan’s return. Obi-Wan cleaned his skin thoroughly, washing away the drying spunk. A moment later he was helping Anakin lean up and pressing a glass of water to his lips.

“Sip,” Obi-Wan ordered softly. Anakin did, draining the glass easily. “How are you feeling?”

“Great. Perfect. I love you,” all tumbled out. “Hold me, for a minute?”

Obi-Wan slid into the bed next to him. He pulled up a soft, rumpled blanket from the end of the bed to cover them both, ensuring it was tucked properly around Anakin. 

He snuggled in close, tucking his head under his master’s chin, pressing his nose to his collarbone and breathing in deeply, hoping to commit his scent to memory. He couldn’t help but grin when Obi-Wan wrapped an arm around him, drawing Anakin tight to his chest, right where he wanted to be.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Anakin mumbled against his skin. As he said it he felt the sudden fear that the answer would be no; that in a moment Obi-Wan would send him out and never acknowledge that tonight had ever happened. The mere thought sent a pang of misery to his heart.

Anakin was so wrapped up in his panic that he nearly missed the answer whispered into his hair. “Please.”


End file.
